


mending

by orphan_account



Series: help me breathe [7]
Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangs, M/M, what a sad.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sangdo tries to fix everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mending

**Author's Note:**

> things get worse before they get better and hyosangdo are no exception. this is from the period of time before everything was sunshine and rainbows. and their relationship is still very strained. i'll talk more about it later B)  
> kudos + comments are appreciated!!

Sangdo thinks too much. He sits in silence, most days, up before anyone else and the last one to go to sleep, staring at cracks in the kitchen table and just thinking.

He’d always had a lot to think about before, sure. Keeping tabs on his sect members, making plans for holidays or events, forcing himself to think of ways to deal with Sehyuk- all the normal, all things Sangdo was used to. But nowadays he thinks about things like  _why did Hyosang push me away today_  and  _why does Hojoon look at me like I’ve done something wrong_  and  _why do I feel so horrible_. He doesn’t really have answers for anything he asks himself, moreso guesses. Most guesses lead to tears.

 

There’s a little velvet box that’s been sitting in Sangdo’s top drawer for over a year. To most people, he’ll say that things are fine, that he’s fine, that Hyosang’s doing well, but truthfully? Sangdo’s still too scared to show the box to Hyosang, even in passing, even if he still didn’t imagine the ring inside around Hyosang’s finger like he was planning on doing on Hyosang’s birthday last year.

Sangdo knew, then, that Hyosang wouldn’t say no. He’d be overjoyed, even if he wouldn’t initially show it; maybe he’d cry, a hand over his mouth and the other outstretched, watching the light glint off of the small diamonds around the band. Now, whenever he opens that dresser drawer for something, his eyes fall on the black velvet and now? Now he’s not so sure what Hyosang’s answer would be.

Sangdo trusts Jiho maybe more than he should, so he takes the box out this time and tucks it in his pocket and heads for Jiho’s room. Jiho’s laying on his bed reading a book and he waves at Sangdo when he sits on the edge of his bed.

“I need your help,” Sangdo whispers, almost afraid, and Jiho reaches over for his bookmark and places it between the pages of his book.

“What’s up?” Jiho asks, letting the book fall shut and then laying it on his stomach. Sangdo stares at him for a few long moments before sighing and reaching into his pocket, handing the box to Jiho. Jiho takes it, flipping the box open and raising his eyebrows. Sangdo sees the look come across his face that lets him know Jiho’s about to make an awful joke, and that he does. “Oh man, boss, I’m… I’m sorry, but I’m already taken twice over.”

Sangdo rolls his eyes, and Jiho laughs. “Nah, I’m just kidding,” Jiho says, sitting up. “What’s up, really, isn’t this Hyosang’s ring?”

“I never gave it to him,” Sangdo whines, unshed tears burning in his eyes, “I’m so scared to give it to him- I’m scared to even tell him what I wanted to do.” Sangdo presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, willing himself not to cry. Not right now.

“Ah, well- shit, I’ve really got no advice to give you… uh… man, I’d just go for it.” Jiho fiddles with the box awkwardly, careful not to displace the ring carefully tucked inside. “I mean, the worst that can happen is he says no, either gives a reason or goes major dickish on you. If he goes major dickish on you, honestly… I’d give up on the romance.”

The words hit like a brick, but Sangdo knows that Jiho’s right, as usual. But as he’s about to reply, Jiho sits up properly and leans in, putting a hand on Sangdo not unlike a father trying to talk to his dear son. It’s almost funny, because it’s been long accepted that Sangdo is the father of his sect members, and now he’s being babied by one of his own.

“It’s not giving up on him, Sangdo,” Jiho says slowly, picking his words carefully, and Sangdo feels a surge of emotion that eventually ends up welling in his eyes. “You aren’t getting rid of him, and you aren’t being mean or unfair. Sometimes it’s best not to hold out for something you’re not going to get again, y’know?”

Sangdo bites his lip and nods, not trusting himself to talk without sobbing, and Jiho flips the box shut and sets it aside in favor of opening his arms. Sangdo leans over obediently, pressing his face into Jiho’s shoulder.

Sangdo used to think Jiho was so frail looking, thin as a rail and flighty, but right now he’s the strongest thing Sangdo’s got.

 

Hyosang still flinches every time Sangdo moves, and Sangdo squashes down a flurry of emotion (why are you only afraid of me) in favor of sitting in the floor at Hyosang’s feet.

Hyosang shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, asking, “Uh, what are you doing?”

Sangdo takes a deep breath, digging the box out of his pocket and flicking it open. “Give me your hand, please.”

Hyosang obliges, giving him the left hand that’s closest, the one missing a finger. Sangdo runs his fingertips over the bumpy scar tissue where his pinkie used to be, thinks about kissing it for a moment before taking the ring out and slipping it onto Hyosang’s ring finger.

“What’re you-”

“Don’t worry,” Sangdo says, not without some measure of bitterness, “I just wanted to see how it’d look.”

“No, it’s-” Hyosang pulls his hand away, and Sangdo stares at something on the floor. It looks like a dried up cheese puff, probably courtesy of Sanggyun. “It’s beautiful, what the hell… is this-”

“I was going to propose,” Sangdo says quietly, resting his head on Hyosang’s knee. “I was going to propose on your birthday. I’d bought the ring months in advance, because I knew- I knew you wouldn’t say no, you loved me, there was no way you could say no.”

Hyosang stays silent, so Sangdo sighs and makes his way back onto the couch, reaching for the television remote.

“You know,” Sangdo says as he presses the power button, flicking a few channels away from the news, “I don’t even know if you love me anymore.” He eventually flicks back to the news in Hyosang’s annoying silence, running his thumb over the numbered buttons on the remote. “If you don’t, then why don’t you just say so? Why do you flinch and shy away from me- why don’t you just tell me?”

“Because it’s hard-”

“It’s hard for me too!” Sangdo really didn’t intend to shout, and when he turns to Hyosang he sees tears welling in his eyes. “I didn’t cause this, Hyosang! I didn’t do this to you, I’ve helped you as much as I possibly can and this is what I’m getting in return? It’s just- ugh.” Sangdo cuts himself short, afraid he’ll say something he absolutely doesn’t want to, afraid he’ll ask something that Hyosang will answer. Sangdo holds Hyosang’s watery gaze for a moment before looking back to the television, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Hey.”

Sangdo looks back to Hyosang, raising an eyebrow in question. Hyosang seems less on the verge of sobbing now, motioning for Sangdo to turn back towards him, so Sangdo does.

“Give me your hands,” Hyosang says, holding his out, and Sangdo does so, laying his hands in Hyosang’s palms. Hyosang flips Sangdo’s hands so they’re palm up, then presses them to his cheeks. There’s freshly scarred flesh beneath Sangdo’s hands and Sangdo fights away the urge to cry, because no, he’s supposed to be mad right now.

“Sangdo,” Hyosang begins, and just his name is loaded with emotion. “Nothing you do can fix this. You’ve got to stop trying.”

“So what, Hyosang?” Sangdo asks, earlier anger withering off into something like weariness. “Are you just done with me now? Do you want to leave my sect, move out- do you want me to throw that ring out and never look at it again? There was only a thirty day return policy on it-”

“God, can you  _shut the fuck up_?”

Sangdo stops short, because that’s the closest Hyosang’s gotten to shouting since- since the thing. He doesn’t even shout anymore over games or movies, and the fact that he’s shouting at Sangdo should probably drive it home.

“I’m not over it, Sangdo, do you not understand that?” Hyosang asks, grip on Sangdo’s hands tightening. “I never thought you’d be the one to get a big fucking head about this, thinking you’ve done so much for me- and don’t get me wrong, you have, but there’s some things you can’t  _fix_ , Sangdo.” It seems Hyosang’s anger has also withered, and Sangdo lets himself tear up for the first time, biting down on his lip.

“You’re trying to fix everything,” Hyosang continues, letting go of Sangdo’s hands, but Sangdo slides them down to Hyosang’s shoulders instead of taking them away, feeling the lightness of his frame beneath his hands. “That’s why you’re so upset, Sangdo, you can’t let me just…” Hyosang doesn’t finish his thought, lifting a hand to wipe his eyes.

There’s silence for a bit, somewhat awkward, until Sangdo whispers, “Why everyone else, then?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you- why aren’t you like this to everyone else? You’re so-” Sangdo chokes up, and he swallows hard, “You’re so distant, you- you’re so scared of me, why is it only  _me_?”

Hyosang stays silent, staring at Sangdo with something Sangdo can’t place burning rich in his eyes. Sangdo lets his hands slip off of Hyosang’s shoulders, staring back at him and listening to the news from behind him. Someone died today. There’s a little girl missing in the Seoul area. The newscaster’s voice becomes white noise when Hyosang speaks.

“I’m not afraid of you, I’m- god, this is so fucking cheesy.” Hyosang manages to laugh, but it’s wet and miserable and tears escape Sangdo’s eyes. “You still love me, right?”

“Of course I do,” Sangdo almost sobs, words coming out strained, and Hyosang smiles slightly.

“That’s why I’m so scared, you still love me, you take care of me and I was too scared that you’d just- you’d hate me, you’d think I was ugly, but you’re just…” Hyosang inhales, breath catching. “So good to me, you’re so good to me. It makes me feel bad that we had to yell at each other before I could be bothered to tell you.”

“Ah, god,” Sangdo says uselessly, wiping at his face, then reaching over to wipe at Hyosang’s, dragging his thumbs beneath Hyosang’s eyes. “You’re right,” he says then, voice still choked as he cups Hyosang’s face in his hands. “I do try to fix everything, b-because I love you so much and it- it hurts me, a lot, when I know you’re in pain and I can’t do anything about it and nobody seems to understand that… I’m sorry, really.”

Hyosang chuckles, closing his eyes. “Come on, you big oaf, stop crying. Kiss me or something.”

Sangdo does, leaning forward and kissing Hyosang with all the sincerity in the world. He’s trying to make up for lost time, all the time he spent wondering and crying and hating, all the time he could have used to do this, instead.

Hyosang doesn’t seem to mind that Sangdo’s cheeks are still wet with tears, leaning into the kiss and breathing against his lips once Sangdo pulls away. “I love you,” Hyosang whispers, and Sangdo sobs. Hyosang shushes him with another kiss.


End file.
